


Mafia Violence

by Anonymous



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, F/M, Hurt, I'll probably remove them later, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Pre-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Rape/Non-con Elements, basically v1 & 2 characters, honestly half of these characters aren't in this but i just want to put their names down
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-26 00:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When he walks home that evening with Komaeda and Soda, he wasn't expecting to be thrown into a van.Fuck.---Alternatively: the title, except I don't know anything about mafia shit.





	Mafia Violence

 

Fuyuhiko jerked out of his thoughts as the car slowed to stop, eyes darting around behind his blindfold. He resisted the temptation to continue squirming around and trying to wiggle out of his binds. He had already tried every basic trick he knew to get out of the ropes, but to no avail. The men who had taken him had tied his hands behind him, preventing him from seeing the type of knot and rendering his hands useless. Besides, there’s no way he’d let these people have the pleasure of seeing him struggle.  
  
It took him a moment to recognize the smell of a dusty, old warehouse. He’s been in so many that he somehow recognized where they were immediately. There were a lot of unoccupied spaces in the area, mostly unfinished condos or buildings, so perhaps he wasn’t far from where they picked him off the streets (he lost his sense of time while in the trunk. It was just so dark, an endless stream of white noise, that barely remembered the whole ride). It’s unlikely his kidnappers would take him to somewhere so close to the centre of the city, so they’re probably near the outskirts.  
  
He shifted around in the limited space provided in the trunk. He was sweating, a bead of perspiration trailing down his forehead, and if wasn’t just ‘cause it was hot. It was unusual for him to be so on edge, even in a situation like this (this has happened more than once, anyway, even when he and Peko were children). His cold and standoffish demeanour was replaced with the jagged edges of fear. Fuyuhiko was petrified in this moment, though he was trying his hardest to mask it (no way he would let them know they were getting to him).  
  
He heard the sound of the trunk opening. A breeze flowed in, before he was grabbed by the armpits and roughly dragged out.  
  
He stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do, when he felt the familiar barrel of a gun press against his chest. Anxiously, he once again fiddled with the bonds around his hands. He immediately stopped when he realized he was doing so.  
  
He knew who these men were, a rival group (he had forgotten the name of) of the Kuzuryuu Clan, but also a sworn enemy and threat to anyone who they came across. Fuyuhiko was certain he ‘came across’ them during some business. Before they blindfolded him, he caught sight of a peculiar symbol on one of their jackets. He was absolutely sure he had met them in the past. Now, they probably came to finish him off. Maybe they were upset about how a previous deal went.  
  
He was walking home from school when this all went down. After getting some drinks with Komaeda and Soda (non-alcohol, if anyone asked), they were strolling down a nearby highway when a black vehicle pulled up. Fuyuhiko barely heard Soda’s panicked voice (“It’s just like in the movies!”), before he was thrown into the trunk, without any chance to call for help.  
  
They had stripped him of his gun, bag, phone—anything besides his clothing. Even the watch he always wore that belonged to his younger sister.  
  
Now, you may be asking: where the hell was Peko during this? That dedicated, resilient girl wasn’t there when he was taken. During the time he was shoved into the trunk, he expected the car to abruptly stop, or flip over, something, and for Peko to suddenly appear and get him out of there. He wasn’t upset when his captors made it to their destination, just mildly upset that there were no casualties on the way. He didn’t hold any resent against Peko for not being there, either. Something was bound to go south sooner or later. She couldn’t be there forever.  
  
They stopped a little later during the ride to tie a rag around his head, which cut into his cheeks and stifled all potential cries. Additionally, they had also blindfolded him and tied his hands behind his back.  
  
He was brought back to the present when the barrel of the gun was suddenly slammed into his stomach. He lurched forward to the ground, which was disgustingly caked with dust and grime, and grunted at the sudden throbbing in his abdomen. The pain merely increased when someone slammed their foot against his head, hard enough to send him sprawling back.  
  
He dimly registered a hand grasping at the silk rope wrapped around his eyes and tugging it loose, until he was squinting at the sudden brightness. The ropes around his mouth and hands remained as they were, unfortunately.  
  
After being in the dark for so long, when his eyes finally adjusted to the light, he took in his new surroundings. However, he couldn’t see much through the crowd of men, a little less than two dozen, that was surrounding him. All were more menacing than the last, Fuyuhiko noted as he studied each one. Strong builds, tattoos, each men possessed these, except the last creep Fuyuhiko laid eyes on.  He assumed this man was the leader by the way he held himself up; posture straight, nearly perfect, and oozing with confidence and smugness. He wasn’t as built as the other men were, and he looked like an ogre.  
  
“Hey there,” the leader said, smirking down at him. The man had oily black hair and similarly disgusting skin, yellow teeth curled into a cruel smile. His auburn eyes were what worried Fuyuhiko the most. They were like raging fires, lurking with horrors and secrets, and promising that Fuyuhiko would be exposed to them soon.  
  
“Nice to see you awake, baby face,” he taunted, and Fuyuhiko barked out a “ _fuck you_ ” behind the gag. His comrades chuckle at that.

Fuyuhiko had nothing else to say to these people, and couldn’t say much even if he wanted to, so he opted for going silent. He glanced around the warehouse, searching around for an exit, any sort of escape. The most of the windows were boarded up with planks of wood; trying to get through them would be useless. With his hands out of order, and the sheer amount of people in the room, his only hope was probably Peko. Even if he was able to obtain some sort of weapon, like a gun, it’s unlikely he would get out unscathed. He didn’t like that he had to rely on Peko to escape, but it was his best option at the moment.

“Don’t try to run away baby,” the man cooed. He reached out and grabbed Fuyuhiko’s chin between his fingers, then forced their eyes to meet. The Ultimate Yakuza tensed up at the sudden intensity in the man’s eyes; he couldn’t describe it, but they were boring into him with such a profound darkness, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “We don’t wanna hurt ya.” The man got closer, his putrid breath making Fuyuhiko cringe. Had this man never used a toothbrush?  
  
His gag was removed with a chuckle. “Let’s hear that voice of yours—“  
  
“Get your hands off of me,” Fuyuhiko immediately spat, pulling up and aiming his hardest glare at the men. He had to intimidate them, make them know he’s not here for bullshit and that he’s not fazed in the slightest. He sat up, the ropes cutting into his wrist. His head and stomach ached at bit, but it wasn’t something he couldn’t deal with.  
  
Much to his disappointment, the leader just smirked. “But why would we do that, baby gansta’?" 

An image of  Akane flashed through Fuyuhiko’s mind. Huh, they probably knew Akane called him that, and if they had information on her, they had information on all of his friends (fuck, that wouldn’t be good). He despised the nickname at first, but eventually came to tolerate it. However, he only let the Ultimate Gymnast call him that.

He hated being called that by a stranger, on a dingy warehouse floor, restrained from moving.

He did not like what the man said next, either.  
  
“We’re gonna make you feel _great_.”  
  
Fuyuhiko’s eyes widened at that, though he was more confused than anything else. He was kidnapped, so they could . . . help him feel . . . better? That didn’t seem right.

He struggled to his feet, despite his hands still tied behind him, and began walking back as two men from the crowd started approaching him. Though, there wasn’t much space he had, considering he was surrounded. Still, it didn’t hurt to try.

The first one reached out, and on instinct, Fuyuhiko kicked out and slammed his foot right into the guy’s crotch. He was rewarded with a scream, and he smirked as the man dropped to the floor. He was wheezing, clutching the injured area. The second man moved forward, and Fuyuhiko slammed his foot right into the man’s kneecap. And damn, that must’ve hurt, because there was a sickening sound, and the man went down, too.

Fuyuhiko felt confident at that moment, embarrassingly so, but it was quickly wiped away when a few people suddenly grabbed him from behind. He thrashed around, trying to rip himself out of their grasps, but their grips were as hard as steel. Despite his flailing, they shoved him to the ground and maneuvered him until he was laying on his back. HIs hands were pinned underneath him, painfully crushed between his back at the cement floor.

His panicked gaze darted around the room, trying to look anywhere but at the men in front of him. He saw the leader sit in a nearby chair and smirk, watching the ordeal go down. Their eyes connected, and the leader’s smirk widened.  
  
“Be careful with him boys. We’re sending a message, not a body bag,” he chuckled.  
  
The crowd began to move closer to Fuyuhiko, who had begun to yell and thrash once more. “What the hell?! Get the fuck away from me!” A few men stayed back, guns in hands, watching the scene unfold like their leader did.

Fuyuhiko stiffened as multiple pairs of hands began to ravage his body. They slipped beneath his shirt, tugged at his waistband, touching him in places even he himself had never ventured often.  
  
“Fuck, fuck, stop it—!“ he cried out, trying to sound demanding, but it came out more like a plea. His breathing grew heavy as the men laughed and tore at his clothes. His outfit was yanked away, and he shivered as the cold air hit his exposed body, face flushing with embarrassment. Despite his thin structure, under the clothes he was indeed fit. He wasn’t buff or anything like that, but you could see the outline of muscles adorning his body. It was just uncomfortable, with so many eyes on him.

“Stop it, do you want something?! We can work something out, anything, money, property— just stop—” he babbled, trying to bargain with them. Maybe they’d want something? Change a few details in a deal they had before? Anything to stop this situation from escalating further.

He writhed around as a finger prodded at his ass, circling around the rim. The men easily maneuvered him to their likings until he was on his stomach, knees bent, ass in the air. A few grabbed his ankles and pulled his legs apart, despite his efforts to close them, exposing him even more.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he blurted out, desperately trying to turn himself around. “You’re messed up, you’re all fucked up in the head!”

No one seemed to be listening to what he was saying. Another man was caressing his face, the gentle strokes almost soothing, but then his grip turned harsh. Fuyuhiko’s face was forcefully tilted upwards until he was face-to-face with the man’s crotch. There was cruel laughter coursing throughout the room. Fuyuhiko absolutely despised to hear it. Using him like this, disrespecting the name of the Kuzuryuu Clan . . .

When he makes it out, he’s going to burn everything to the ground. Bring despair to these people, make them pay.

He was trembling, trying to move away as they poked and prodded at his body. It was all so new, each touch brought an uncomfortable feeling that made him want to curl away and hide. His squeezed his eyes shut, as if doing so would make all of it disappear. It didn't work, he still felt lips brush across his neck before biting down roughly, his nipples fondled with, his legs  spread.

“Kuzuryuu, look over here.”

The man’s tone sounded nonchalant, but Fuyuhiko could sense the underlying threat. He didn’t want to comply, but the sudden click of a gun echoed clearly throughout the warehouse. He didn’t care if he died or not, his sister could just take over for him, but dying when he could’ve prevented it seems counterproductive. Reluctantly, he looked up, and saw the leader holding up a phone and grinning cruelly from afar. HIs expression malicious and forbidding, a contrast to the nonchalant tone he was sporting seconds before.

His panic was temporarily overthrown by a sudden outrage of fury. “ _Don’t you fucking dare--_ ”

“You look good, Kuzuryuu,” the leader interrupted, smirk widening. “You’ll please my men, won’t you?” he taunted. Fuyuhiko opened his mouth to snap back, and at that moment, a finger was thrusted into Fuyuhiko ass, causing the him to jolt and cry out.

“Shit, shit, shit.” It burned like hell. No lube, no preparation whatsoever. The man had long fingers (curse him), reaching deep inside him. The stretched felt so awkward, especially the way the man rubbed against his walls. The finger brushed along something, and before that everything touch was disgusting, but it sparked something that felt . . . strangely good. He instinctively clenched down against the feeling, choking on a moan, which earned him a few laughs and snide comments from the man behind.  
  
His cheeks heated up, mouth contorting into a scowl. Here he was, tied down and forced into this situation, and he was, experiencing pleasure from it.

Humiliated, blinking away the tears from his eyes, he looked around to see the circle of other men touching themselves, a few even starting a line behind him. The look on Fuyuhiko’s face shifted into badly-restrained panic. He shook his head pleadingly as a second finger was added. Barely a second passed before a third finger prodded at his hole, too. The stretched went from tolerable to fire in a few seconds. The man was moving too fast, opening him up too quick and recklessly. It didn’t feel good to Fuyuhiko at all, not in the slightest.

He forced himself to talk past the lump in his throat. “S-Stop, don’t! I can’t, I can’t—” His voice cracked slightly, and it only made his face heat up more. If he was concerned about begging, looking like a fool, and tarnishing the Kuzuryuu Clan’s name before, he wasn’t at this point.

The man in front of him forced his jaw open, ignoring his pleas, and shoved his hard cock into Fuyuhiko’s mouth.

The first thought that came Fuyuhiko’s mind was: _this taste fucking disgusting_. The feeling of having a dick in his mouth was already enough to make him want to puke. The man reached down and placed his hands on each side of Fuyuhiko’s head and began roll his hips in sharp but restrained motions. The man rocked his hips forward, quickly setting a pace, fucking into Fuyuhiko’s mouth, with each forceful thrust getting harder, deeper.

  
The second thought he had was: _I can’t breathe_. He almost vomited when the man’s cock hit the back of his throat. His eyes watered and he gagged, but the man above just kept moaning and moving faster, barely giving him a break between each thrust. If it was hard to breathe before, it was near impossible now with all the saliva building up inside his mouth. His tongue was pinned beneath the intruding object. The man continued to force him down his cock, over and over. At one point, he held Fuyuhiko down, all the way to the base of his cock, and just kept him there. Between the lack of room, and the fact that the dick was pressing into his throat, Fuyuhiko couldn’t avoid gagging.

He was crying at this point, body shaking and lungs begging for air. The men around him jeered and laugh, pointing out what a sight he was, how good he looked with his mouth stuffed with cock, how he drooled and quivered and was _enjoying_ this.

His third thought was: _I’m gonna throw up_. And it wasn’t only from the lewd comments circling around the room. The man still hadn’t loosened his grip, keeping him pressed down his cock and forcing him to take it all.

With clear sign of this coming, the Ultimate Yakuza’s body jerked, a muffled heave sounding from him. Desperately, he wanted to reach his hands up to push the man away, but with his restraints, it was impossible. He’d do anything to get this to stop, but he more he thrashed around, struggled, the more it seemed like the man wouldn’t be letting up. His gag reflex was wearing thin.

Then the man’s grip faltered, and Fuyuhiko pulled off his cock with a gasp. Every muscle in his body was tense, locked up from how long his body was deprived of oxygen. His throat was burning, acid and whatever other contents from his stomach rising up. The man released his hold on Fuyuhiko’s head, and the high school student leaned forward and heaved. He could feel it coming, the sick feeling shooting up his spine to the base of his head, stomach churning painfully. He made an uncomfortable noise each time his stomach moved in reverse, and he knew puke would soon follow if things continued the way they were now.

Thankfully, he didn’t throw up, but any longer and he definitely would’ve. He kept heaving as if doing so would get rid of the disgusting feeling in his body.

Fuyuhiko wouldn’t have registered when the fingers were no longer inside him if it weren’t for the sudden drag along his walls. A small, miniscule part of him missed them instantly. The sudden loss left him feeling strange and empty.

Another part of him hated himself for thinking that.

And the rest of him was surging with relief, optimistically thinking that maybe--maybe these men would stop. But that belief was stupid, idealistic thinking. The thought that they would stop after going so far, have a change of heart . . .

. . . was utterly foolish.

He felt the tears roll down his face, but didn’t do anything about it. Just when he thought that this was the worst of it, he felt something much bigger poke at his backside. He had a sneaking suspicion of what it was, but it felt oddly cool and smooth.

“Wait wait, I can’t—don’t do this!” Desperately, he tried to move away, but there wasn’t anywhere he could move.

Fuck this, _fuck all of this_ , he just wanted it all to stop. If he managed to get away at this moment, made it back home, he isn’t sure he’d want to get out of bed the next day. He wanted to see his friends, _Peko_ —strong, fierce Peko. The one who only smiled when she was around him, even if it was only twice in their entire lifetime. HIs childhood friend, the one who’s helped and supported him through everything.

HIs eyes darted to one of the boarded up windows, and had this sudden vision of Peko; she would come bursting through, _kill everyone (stabbing, strangling, bludgeoning, crushing, hacking, drowning, igniting, anything),_ and get him out of here. They would go home, and she would help him push away the memories of today. All of it, all of this despair, forever.

This, however, wasn’t a fairytale.

Fuyuhiko jolted and let out an ear-piercing scream as, without any warning, he was thrust into from behind. He wasn’t breached by a cock, but--but by a fucking _gun_. Sharp, searing pain erupted in his opening, making him see white, but the man behind kept pushing the firearm in.

The crowd around didn’t seem to mind his agonized screams. Fuyuhiko’s legs flailed, trying to break free from the multiple hands gripping them and spreading them open. As the man behind him started a rhythm with the weapon, he tried to wrench himself forward and away. The hands on his legs tightened, and he let out a startled gasp when a slap landed on the right side of his ass.

Low voices and leers circulated around the room, and Fuyuhiko cringed at most of the words. The pain was making him delirious and light-headed, muffling the sounds around him, but he could still hear them.

“How is he?”

“Looks tight as a virgin.”

Laughter.

“Not bad, not bad.”

“Hurry up, some of us want a turn.”

Fuyuhiko squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his hands into fist.

The man in front of him grabbed his head and forced him down his cock, all the way down to the base once more. He was held down, unable to breathe or fight back.

Then the gun was roughly yanked out of him. His insides clung to the tip of the firearm when it was removed. He couldn’t stop the jagged groan that escaped him when it rubbed against his rim.

Fuyuhiko tensed and fought to remain calm as he heard shuffling behind him.

 _Breathe. Don't give them anything. Breathe._ It was a little too late for that, though.

He immediately yelled out and flailed around as hard as he could when he felt hands on his backside. He might not be able to prevent his captors from doing as they wanted, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let them have it easy.

His brief surge of confidence was quickly replaced with dread when his actions barely did anything to move the man behind him. It didn't matter how much he yelled or threatened, no one outside of the warehouse could hear it and his panicked shouting probably only egged the men on.

The man behind didn't utter a word when he pushed in, resting and tightening his hands on Fuyuhiko's legs and holding him steady as he moved. The Ultimate Yakuza bit down on his bottom lip and closed his eyes tightly when he was filled again. He was still hurting from before; it felt like having a hot poker shoved up his ass, and he couldn't stop the small noises of pain that escaped when the man pushed in to the hilt.

The pain caused him to jolt forward into the cock in his mouth, gagging as it touched the back of his throat. The man in front thrusted forward as well, causing Fuyuhiko to further impale himself on the cock of the man behind him. He was crying heavily, unable to hold his tears back.

The room was filled with the disgusting sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and the wet motion of the cock sliding in and out of his sore entrance. This continued for a while, being maneuvered to their likings and played with, before the guy behind him grunted, “Gonna fuckin’ cum in your slutty hole.” He grinned down at Fuyuhiko condescendingly and kept moving, his thrusts quickening in pace, erratic and forceful, making him see white.  
  
Fuyuhiko was brought back to full alert. He cried out and shook his head as much as he could, pleading with the men, who only cheered their comrade on. He tried to pull his ass away, wailing as he was pulled back to the hilt. Finally the man stilled with a quiet groan as he came, adding to the blood already present inside of Fuyuhiko’s shaking body. A few seconds of nothing, then the pain of the soft member moving out of him. A warmth dripped down his legs, ass stinging. The cock in his mouth also came, flooding his mouth with cum.

“Swallow it.” The man grinned at him, slipping his cock out of his mouth. Immediately, Fuyuhiko began to cough and gag, spitting out as much of the foul substance as he could. Just the feeling of it in his mouth made him want to throw up; it felt disgusting on his tongue, and he was almost retching. The man grabbed his chin roughly, preventing him from moving so much, and started pushing the cum back into Fuyuhiko’s mouth-- _sick fuck_ \--with his fingers.

He sunk his teeth into the fingers as soon as they poked into his mouth, hard enough to taste blood. The man cursed and staggered backwards, yanking his hand away as he did.

Fuyuhiko might not be able to prevent his captors from doing as they wanted, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let them have it easy.

Growling the man slapped stepped back forward and lashed out, striking Fuyuhiko across the face. The satisfied expression on the man’s face morphed into rage, and he looked like he was going to hit him again before the leader suggested something.

“Now now boys, play nice,” the leader said, laughing. “I’m sure he’s just angsty because he isn’t getting enough in the back.”

“ _No, no, no,_ ” Fuyuhiko said, repeating it over and over like a mantra. A few different men walked behind him as another one took spot in front of him. He could take another in his mouth easily, but what startled him was when he felt not one, but _two_ cocks poking at his ass.

He screamed when one plummeted in, then the other followed quickly. They tore up his insides, lower half burning like a fire. The only thing that supplied as lube was the previous man’s cum and his own blood.

He started sobbing loudly, gasping, body rocking back and forth and trapped between the two men. Their paces were quickly set, so that when one pulled out, the other pushed in, so that he was never empty for more than a few seconds. He closed his eyes as another cock forced its way into his mouth.


End file.
